


golden boys

by toffeelemon



Series: Crazy Rich Gaysians [2]
Category: Crazy Rich Asians (2018), Crazy Rich Asians Series - Kevin Kwan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book: Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Everyone Is Gay, M/M, Multi, Nick is gay, crazy rich gaysians, mehmet from book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 12:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeelemon/pseuds/toffeelemon
Summary: Nick is just another crazy rich boy from Singapore who would inherit half of the property in the country eventually. Except that he has one huge ass secret - he's gay.He has always been unlucky in love, or so he thought. When life slams doors, a window is opened. As Nick tries to regather his pieces after being shunned by his family, happiness awaits him around the bend.





	golden boys

**Author's Note:**

> a spin off from my rachel/astrid fic! x

“So, Rachel Chu, huh,” Colin asks casually, once they were free from Bernard’s circus freak show and are looking out at the calm, empty Pacific Ocean instead. Nick pulls a tight smile, hoping that he could put up his facade in front of his childhood best friend like he has with everyone else so far.

 

“Yep, she’s an amazing girl, isn’t she. Almost as amazing as me,” Nick wiggles his eyebrows, and Colin erupts into a hearty laugh. Nick grins innocently.

 

“She _ is  _ a nice girl, Nick. That’s what I’m worried about… are you sure this is fair to Rachel? Are you serious about playing along with this?” Colin asks, eyes piercing straight through Nick’s soul. Nick’s shoulders slump - he has been seen through entirely. Colin always sees through his bullshit: most of the time, Colin knows Nick better than Nick himself did. Nick sighs, throwing his head back to down the remainder in his current bottle of Tsingtao.

 

“...I can assure you that Rachel is not actually as good as she looks - she’s a raging lesbian and a compulsive liar. I’ve heard her make up five different fake white boyfriends in one night once - and I was right there! How dare her!” Nick gasps dramatically, attempting at humour in response as Colin pieces the clues together - so his best friend isn’t scamming for marriage as the straight guy everyone believes him to be. Rachel is definitely stepping in for a big favour though - Colin would be blind to not notice how everyone around them has been bullying Nick’s new (make believe) girlfriend mercilessly. 

 

“Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed. Rachel definitely doesn’t look…” Nick glares at Colin sternly, as if he’s about to smack Colin in the head for the comment. Colin throws his hands up in surrender.

 

“Okay, okay! I shouldn’t have said that, it’s probably problematic. Sorry bro,” Colin offers as a truce. Nick shrugs, hardly actually offended. After so many years, he’s just glad that Colin has tolerated him even after knowing the truth - Nick didn’t expect Colin to be all accepting. This is Singapore, after all, and everyone in his world is stuck up, very traditionally Chinese, and prone to gossip.

 

“So Rachel  _ knows _ , right?” Colin asks cautiously, after failing to flick another pebble over the water. Nick effortlessly succeeded, his pebble skidding across easily. Colin frowns at him in spite.

 

“Yeah. She knows as much as you do,” Nick says seriously, avoiding eye contact. That statement in itself is grave - no one really knows the extent of Nick’s double life except Colin, who has been there since the beginning.

 

_ Nick still remembers that day when Colin’s perception of him is changed forever. They are fourteen, and someone has just told Nick that Kevin Chua, a Raffles boy, has gone to second base with Nick’s supposed girlfriend, Amanda Ling. It’s inevitable - Amanda is a Raffles girl and Nick (and Colin) are at ACS, they aren’t even supposed to cross paths in the first place. But Colin took matters into his own hands and decides to march to the gates of Raffles, with Nick, to confront that asshole. Colin threw the first punch, but eventually Nick had to join in too, just to save his best friend’s ass - Colin is as good as a friend could get, but he can’t fight for shit if his life depended on it.  _

 

_ A few hours and a bloodied nose later, Colin and Nick found themselves sitting somewhere with a view of the reservoir, Nick curling into himself and trying to hold back tears, whilst Colin tries to console his friend. _

 

_ “I don’t even like Amanda anyway, what a bitch! Why does it hurt so much?” Nick wails, and Colin pats his back uselessly. At this point, Colin hasn’t had his first girlfriend, so he could hardly sympathise - they could both agree that Amanda is a bitch though. _

 

_ “Girls are so not worth it, fuck! Why do I even bother? I hate girls! What’s the point?” Nick cries even harder, and Colin, heartbroken, pulls his best pal into a bear hug. Nick gladly melts into the safety that he has known since Kindergarten. Unlike girls, Nick could always count on Colin, his best friend, his soulmate, his comrade in battle - Colin might not be the best at rescuing Nick from silly fist fights, but at least he tries. Nick thinks that he loves Colin more than anyone else in the world. _

 

_ Nick clumsily attempts to kiss Colin (his best friend!) tearfully, overwhelmed with emotions and suddenly discovering feelings that has been crawling under his skin for years. Colin laughs nervously at the gesture, gently holding Nick off, and Nick regrets everything instantly, his entire life flashing over his eyes. _

 

_ “Hey, dude, please don’t kiss me just because you’re upset about your girlfriend,” Colin tries, expression level and seemingly not too disturbed, only half joking.  _

 

_ “What if I’m kissing you because I’ve always wanted to?” Nick blurts out, and cringes even more. He doesn’t know where did that come from - he only knows all too well that this is a colossal mistake, that Colin will hate him forever, and his life is doomed. Nick hates himself for being a coward but at the moment, all he could do is shrink away from Colin and go back to crying.  _

 

_ Eventually Colin pulls Nick into another comforting, friendly hug - and Nick lets him, apologising profusely. “There’s nothing to apologise for,” Colin says, secretly upset from the revelation - not because he minded his best friend being possibly gay (Colin’s self obsessed ass is low key flattered, actually), but Colin knows far too well how difficult is it going to be for Nicholas Young for now onwards. _

 

They never speak of it after that day, when Nick officially breaks up with Amanda on Facebook - Nick refuses to. But Colin doesn’t tease him about girls anymore, doesn’t push or assume Nick is straight: there’s an unwritten mutual understanding that the secret is to be kept between them, as two brothers. Nick doesn’t act awkward around Colin after that almost kiss pretty soon - he soon realises that although Colin is devastatingly handsome and funny and perfect, ultimately he’s just Nick’s  _ straight _ best friend - it seems that it was just teenage Nick’s projection of all his repressed feelings.

 

After Colin and Nick are separated, when Nick goes to boarding school in England, their bond strengthens with the distance (and with the absence of the uncomfortable in-real-life tension, Nick muses when he’s much older). Breaking free from prison (aka Tyersall Park in Singapore), Nick lets himself go once or twice, when there is absolutely no one from home around. Nick sometimes brazenly describes his wild and new gay life in university to Colin, over text - Colin is shocked to hear of the transformation, but he is supportive, nonetheless. As long as his best friend is getting laid - Colin doesn’t really care is it with a woman or a man.

 

Nick hasn’t really thought about his love life ever since he graduated - people his age date for a serious future now, one that he cannot imagine for himself, in his position, so Nick doesn’t bother anymore. It’s too much effort, and sneaking around in paranoia is tiring. But here he is, at a surprisingly romantic island getaway, alone save for his soulmate by his side - Nick lets his mind wander, just a short rest from everything hectic that has happened during this trip so far.

 

“You know what I just realised - I never got to kiss you properly that day when we went to Raffles to pick a fight,” Nick says cheekily, avoiding eye contact in the pretense of popping open another bottle of beer. Colin cackles.

 

“You mean that day when I got a black eye for you?” Colin inches closer, hands brushing past Nick’s as he stole the last bottle of their dozen of Tsingtao. Nick frowns momentarily, then smiles to himself at the fond memory.

 

“Well, come get it bro,” Colin’s stance is open and relaxed as he remains dangerously in Nick’s personal space, sweeping his hair up in a suspiciously planned seductive motion. Nick hates him for being so suave. Nick blinks at the offer, before a surge of recklessness attacks him and forces him to close the difference between them. 

 

Nick steals a peck from his best friend of decades - Colin’s lips are warm and chapped, and Nick barely feels anything, which is a relief. He has longed closure with his soulmate for a very long time now, it just seems fitting that they’ve finally done this at Colin’s supposed bachelor party. Nick freezes, remembering Colin’s wedding. The wedding that Nick is best man for. 

 

“Oh my god,” Nick groans, falling into his deckchair, “I feel so bad about Araminta.”

 

Colin breaks out into a loud, genuine laugh once he realises that his best friend isn’t going to proclaim his undying love for him as he feared for a second (Colin  _ is _ self obsessed, sue him). 

“At least you don’t feel bad  _ for _ her. Don’t worry, she won’t mind. She trusts me to not like you back that way,” Colin explains vaguely, conveying that Araminta knows as much as he does too. Nick doesn’t really mind, he likes Araminta well enough and knows that she’s hardly a blabbermouth who would put Nick in mortal danger with the information - but it doesn’t change how embarrassing all of this is.

 

“So you’re telling me, your future wife knows that I've had a pathetic crush on you since  _ forever _ \- bloody Christ, I'm not going to the wedding. Find a new best man, Colin,” Nick proclaims dramatically. Colin only offers the beer back as consolation, snickering more discreetly as if he’s trying his best to make Nick feel better. 

 

“I could marry you, if it weren’t for Araminta.”

“You’re only saying that because I have a helicopter license.”

 

-

 

The whole fake girlfriend scheme totally backfired. Nick is imagining his family to be happy - to be less suspicious, maybe - that Nick is finally dabbling in the opposite gender. But no, they hate Rachel - Nick assures Rachel that it’s not personal, that his stuck up family would hate just about any girl that he brings home (even though they’re desperate for him to get married like any other successful family man - Nick is impressed that he hasn’t been driven mad by his contradicting family yet), but eventually his mum throws a tantrum in front of all their royal family friends at the wedding so Nick has no choice but to promise to break up with the  _ nasty ABC girl _ at once. So Nick and Rachel, they  _ do _ break up (their entirely fake relationship conjured out of gay solidarity), putting on a public show as well, just so absolutely everyone in Singapore knows. Nick resigns from lecturing at NYU, cancels his flight back, and takes up a job at his father’s company - all to make his mother happy. He has never been more miserable.

 

Rachel bids a tearful goodbye, although she doesn’t forget to mention that she kind of has  _ a thing _ going on with Nick’s cousin, Astrid. Nick squeals with his gay best friend, but is bitterly jealous inside - it’s somewhat different if he weren’t a man. Sure, Astrid is to-be-divorced, and almost has stakes as high as him: but everyone’s no stranger to tales from her rebellious teenage years, when Astrid would go out every night and kiss every boy,  _ or girl _ \- whoever crossed paths with her.  _ It’s just a phase, _ everyone says, willing to overlook it, somehow because she’s a girl the offence isn’t as severe - it isn’t like she doesn’t like boys, anyway. She’ll outgrow it. She’ll just learn to pick a man, when it comes to the serious matters, and she did. It’s not like Nick has that option - he wishes that he can fool around with boys and still laugh it off as a minor act of rebellion. He doesn’t know that whether it’s a blessing or a curse that Astrid’s romances with any woman will never be taken seriously, just because she’s a girl, unlike him. They are all doomed, that’s what. They have been doomed ever since the day they were born into the Young family - heavy is the head that wears the crown, after all. 

 

Astrid grabs him into a unnecessarily long, bone crushing hug as they parted ways in Changi. It wasn’t the sole reason, but Nick suspects of a certain Rachel Chu factoring into Astrid’s choice to move to New York City, when the world is pretty much her oyster. Astrid whispers into Nick’s ear, after staring into his eyes long and hard. 

 

“One day, you can live your truth too,” Nick’s face is stricken by the words, but Astrid doesn’t catch the expression, already turning away to the gate with Cassian’s hand in hers. His older cousin is always far wiser and smarter than everyone else in their generation. What a shame that no one ever really considered passing down the inheritance to her instead. Nick blinks at the tiled floor of Changi Airport. He has never told Astrid, but he isn’t surprised that she knows anyway. It could’ve been Rachel, or Astrid might have found out before - but Nick is convinced that people in pain recognise each other. Astrid is breaking free, and asking him to join her. Nick is conflicted - freedom seems so far away. He goes back to his car, and drives home, staying grounded in this lonely island without Rachel or Astrid. For a prison, he supposes that Singapore is pretty damn nice.

 

It starts out as a small argument about him getting promoted in his dad’s company - which is entirely embarrassing, really, Nick is on his way to a PhD and in his late 20s but somehow relying his rich father for a job. His mother is obsessed with the idea of forcing Nick into some sort of grounding commitment - after listening into all kinds of conspiracy theories about runaway sons from the Aunties - so she’s determined to pressure her husband into making it happen. Nick’s dad didn’t give a shit and isn’t really bothered, as usual, so this left Nick stuck in the middle, a totally competent adult having a conservative, backward thinking middle aged woman dictate his life. One thing lead to another and it escalated into a screaming fight, with Nick coming out to his parents with a red face and clenched fists, without really meaning to. His parents are shocked to silence at first, his dad stoic and his mother blinking in stupor, the fancy vintage clock clicking uncomfortably into the heavy silence in the flat. In a split second, Nick’s mother walked up right to him in three quick steps, and raises her hand to slap him across the cheek. Nick’s handsome, jutting cheekbone stings with all the hurt in the world.

 

The yelling continues. Nick is done with it all, feeling angry in the end, after all the heartbreak, the fear, the pure shock that ran through his mind in the one minute between him blurting out his truth and his own mother hitting him. He’s tired of constantly being made to feel like a disappointment to them. He’s tired of trying to please them and rise up to their standards. He’s tired of doing everything that they make him do, just so he will stop being a disappointment. Because Nick will always be a disappointment - he’s gay and he’s long accepted that fact, and if his family is going to continue being disappointed in him, he might as well live his goddamn life.

 

Before various bodyguards can even restrain Nick, before all his relatives warning him to “not give Ah Ma a stroke by being such an ungrateful brat”, Nick is already throwing all his belongings into the suitcase he came with from New York, and he flees his childhood bedroom in Tyersall Park, not once looking back. By the time he is paying for the next available flight to New York, all his accounts have already been frozen, save for the one account under his name that was actually holding Nick’s own hard earned money. He feels lost and dazed, and the tears don’t come until he was seated on the midnight flight, economy class and the white American fatso next to him snoring loudly. 

 

Nick is on autopilot, emotionless as he drags his suitcase through John F Kennedy’s arrival hall and jumps into a yellow taxi, blurting out the familiar address, the only refuge he knows. It’s only when he’s comfortably coddled in blankets in Rachel’s sofa bed that Nick remembers his cousin Astrid is in New York too. Family is the last thing he wants to ever think of again.

 

Nick stays in that bed for a good three weeks: doing nothing except wallowing, binging Netflix shows (on Rachel’s account, she feels too sorry for him to say anything) or food (Astrid always brings him his favourite soup from Chinatown). When he finally leaves the flat for real, and not just to pop to the corner shop, it’s for the rare Oxford alumni meet up in town that Rachel and Astrid have collectively coerced him into going. Nick puts on a grey suit, one of the only ones he has left with him, and begrudgingly trails behind Astrid to the party like a sad puppy. He hasn’t spoken to people for a month now, and Nick is scared to start again.

 

The party isn’t actually all that bad - after the third drink, Nick is loosened up, slowly slipping back into the casual, charismatic persona that has always charmed everyone in the room, comfortable in the anonymous setting of this alumni get together. He’s chatting with mostly people he’s not really close to, some of Astrid’s friends, and is almost convinced that there is a much bigger world than Singapore, where he misses dearly but can never imagine himself going back to, not without getting shunned every single moment. Nick reminiscences and is fond of his memories of university - the few years in his life when he was uninhabited and happy, soon after his teenage sexual awakening. Nick wonders what happened that brought him here instead, wounded and miserable. He swirls his champagne chute with a gloomy frown, in time with the jazz music in the background, as he distractedly watches Astrid being the star of the night, as always. The sky bar has a stunning view of Manhattan below them, grids of lights and noise and traffic stretching endlessly across the horizon - Nick has grown up in cities all his life, and yet he still feels eerily lonely in them. He really, desperately misses being happy.

 

“Nick! Nicholas Young!” A rich voice calls behind Nick, and he snaps back into focus. The handsome man with a chiselled jaw and long eyelashes steps up beside Nick, grinning wildly. Nick blinks at him for a moment, before recognition settles in, and he breaks into a smile too, genuinely excited. 

 

“Mehmet? Oh my goodness, I haven’t seen you in years! How are you!” Nick yells in glee, and some residue shock, as he automatically throws an arm around Mehmet, pulling him into a short, amicable hug. Excitement over finally meeting the first familiar face of the night aside, Nick is actually happy to unexpectedly see Mehmet here - having close friends that he used to hang out with all the time is another thing that Nick misses from being young (not that he’s really old now, he’s just being melodramatic).

 

“I’m good! I’m good,” Mehmet laughs, as he clinks his wine to Nick’s glass.

 

_ ‘Haram alert!’ _ Nick wants to yell, like he used to back in the days, an inside joke on how religiously lenient Mehmet is - but Nick bites it down, smiling innocently at his friend. They’re not as close anymore, it’s hardly appropriate. 

 

“Fancy seeing you here? I didn’t know you’re in New York - I thought you were still in London! Actually, didn’t you go back to Istanbul a while ago,” Nick wonders out loud, still slightly struck at the odds, referring to Mehmet’s last trace of activity on Facebook. Mehmet shrugs, his dark swoopy hair flying in the wind. God, he really grew up a lot (not in the  _ bad _ way, Nick muses to himself) - the last time Nick has seen him in the flesh, Mehmet was still a skinny boy with bushy eyebrows, and definitely not as hot.

 

“Yeah, I just moved last week, actually,” Mehmet explains, and Nick doesn’t bother to pry more when he doesn’t elaborate. Nick is pretty sure that Mehmet has gone home to Istanbul to take over his family’s kingdom of wealth, of oil rigs and antique goods - Nick isn’t sure how did that escalate, but everyone has a story behind their back. Nick is not exactly in the position to explain himself either.

 

“So… how are you?” Mehmet asks conversationally, and Nick’s face drops. Maybe he could pretend Singapore has never happened, and he has never left New York - God knows that Nick wants to. But Mehmet grimaces a bit, worries over his lip, and continues - “I uh… I heard about what went down in Singapore. You okay?”

 

Nick’s shoulders slump, and he throws his head back to pour more alcohol into himself. He shouldn’t have expected any less - no matter how far you escape, asian drama will always catch up to you. The world is small and everyone has their own jets - and Mehmet has a handful of Singaporean friends anyways. But Nick is nonchalant now, the worst of the damage already done and Mehmet’s opinion hardly matters - Nick knows that he wouldn’t think different of him, and that it isn’t exactly a surprise to Mehmet, although they never acknowledged it.

 

_ Nick knows Mehmet from their days boarding in Tonbridge - Mehmet is his first neighbour, and has always lived in the periphery of Nick’s corridor somehow throughout the years. They chat, they know of each other, but weren’t really close friends until they were two of the six boys in their year who got into Oxford. Mehmet did Philosophy Politics Economics at Trinity (fucking hell) and Nick did law at Magdalen. Nick sees Mehmet a lot, they have a lot of mutual friends because Mehmet is the sort who goes to all the asian networking events and Nick is, unfortunately, Singaporean. Nick mostly sees him because Mehmet, cheeky as he is, always wants help lending out a punt from Magdalen. They actually went punting together once, and Mehmet fell into the river when a drunk Nick tries to punt. He doesn’t feel guilty at all, to be honest with himself.  _

 

_ Nick avoids the asian societies like the plague, which is near impossible since literally every other international student is from Singapore, but Nick makes do, after his mistake of coming out in college during Freshers Week. He cannot let word travel back home. But Mehmet found out by accident, in a rather awkward situation, actually. Nick went on a date with this white boy he was introduced to through some mutual friends once - it was all a bit shit really, he’s creepy and boring and a rower. Nick is nice to him though, because he always is, and when he’s drunk to the point of oblivion and running into familiar faces on a night out, Nick is incompetent in avoiding anyone. So he makes out with said horrible white rower after some prompting, and lets him push more Jagerbombs into his hands. Nick drinks and drinks without even thinking. Then Nick is stumbling out of Plush, a strong arm on his waist and dragging him along to God knows where. Nick is so wasted - the cold air outside sobers him up enough to be confused and mildly panicked, but the dark deserted streets of central Oxford is still blurry and foreign to him. Nick slurs out a few words, trying to ask where were they heading with no avail, and the guy cooes at him, brushing his matted hair back and moves into another forceful kiss. Nick uselessly complies, and only comes back to his senses to back away a good minute later, shaking his head in attempt to sober up and muttering “I need to go home.” _

 

_ The guy is still manoeuvring him in the opposite direction from Magdalen (at least Nick thinks it is, he vaguely sees McDonalds behind him, his only beacon of safety), and Nick’s anxiety finally kicks in, despite his body hardly obeying him. By this point Nick was still a virgin - in the moment he wasn’t sure would he had minded, but doing it incredibly drunk with someone he actively didn’t like was questionable, even in his intoxicated mind. Nick feels incredibly uncomfortable, he just wants to break free and make a run for it. _

 

_ “Nick?” Mehmet calls out in concern, a half eaten kebab wrap in his hands as he pauses on his way home from a night out himself. Nick could have cried out of relief, mustering all the lifeforce he had to make eye contact with the blurry boy in the distance, before Mehmet goes away and convinces himself that he has been mistaken. Luckily, Mehmet steps closer, and the arm around Nick clenches then falters. Nick’s eyes are wide like he is a terrified little deer, which isn’t far from the truth. _

 

_ “I finally found you! Come on, I’m here to take you home,” Mehmet says forcefully, in the least fake way possible (he isn’t very good at it), after a moment of recognition of the situation and glancing at the predatory hunk latching onto Nick’s waist. He has seen girls in this scenario before, Mehmet unfortunately knew what was about to happen next and he is so, so glad that he got to take Nick away in time. In the split second of confusion on the white guy’s face, Mehmet is already grabbing Nick’s hand, and swiftly turn on their heel in the opposite direction, back to Nick’s college and away from the creep. _

 

_ Nick doesn’t start breathing again until they passed the covered market, letting out a breath like he finally has his head over water, and when he low key breaks out into a run, Mehmet lets him, although his gentle grip on Nick’s elbow stays, scared that his drunk ass would get lost. Nick’s panic induced sobriety passes, and he stops abruptly, throwing up next to the bus stop. Mehmet curses and fusses over Nick. He isn’t sure what to do with Nick, seeing that Nick doesn’t seem fit to take care of himself, but eventually they got to the gates of Magdalen, Nick letting them in from the side gate because the porters will definitely cause a riot with 1) Nick being such a disaster and 2) Mehmet sneaking in.  _

 

_ “Are you sure you want me to come with you? You’ll be alright by yourself, right? I don’t mean to impose…” Mehmet trails off worriedly, acutely aware of the trauma of some jerk basically taking advantage of Nick not long ago - Nick probably doesn’t need another man in his personal space right now. Mehmet is gathering up the resolve to just turn and go, but instead Nick burst into tears and collapses into Mehmet’s ever so slightly taller shoulder, so Mehmet has no choice but to drag both of them into the building, not leaving until Nick has finally exhausted himself and has been tucked into bed, in the wee hours of the morning when the birds start to chirp.  _

 

_ Nick recovers from the incident pretty soon - it sucks, but it happens to women all the time, so he had no difficulty finding friends to support him and talk it out. Not Mehmet though, although Nick did awkwardly thank him for taking care of him over text, and Mehmet is left to himself to wonder at the implications. Nick is just grateful that Mehmet isn’t a blabbermouth. Well Mehmet knows for sure now. _

 

“Uh… Okay is a bit of an overstatement, but I’m surviving, I guess. It is what it is,” Nick says somberly, once he gathers his thoughts from letting his mind wander. Mehmet smiles rigidly, the kind of tight lipped smile that reaches horizontally across his face, his deep dimples popping on his cheek. As uncomfortable as that expression looks, Nick thinks it’s hella cute. It reminds him of that cat from a particular meme, with wide eyes and what you can call a timid smile in human terms.  _ Haram alert,  _ Nick chastises himself, tearing his eyes away from Mehmet attractively taking a sip of his wine. Nick really needs to get his head out of the gutter - he had no idea why he is suddenly getting ideas about his friend who he has known for a decade now. His gayness truly is his downfall.

 

“Well, it is what it is!” Mehmet tries again, a little more cherrily. He nudges closer to Nick, cheekily stealing the chute out of his hands as Mehmet sets his own empty glass down on the balcony ledge. Nick laughs, but doesn’t forget to move the glass to somewhere else out of paranoia. Nick relishes in the warmth steadily pressing against his side, feeling decently content in the haze of good champagne and amazing city views, and talks for the first time since his runaway.

 

“It sucks though, I’m not gonna lie. I feel so overwhelmingly… alone. Like the entire world is against me, now that I have basically lost my family. It’s a tiring fight,” Nick explains uselessly, hands flailing out in the cool evening air before finding their way back onto the ledge, reaching over to take his chute back. Mehmet lets him. Oh, so they share a drink now. Nick sips on it to hide his blush as Mehmet nods understandingly and hummed in deep thought.

 

“I’m here for you! I’m sure all your friends are,” Mehmet blurts out randomly, breaking the comfortable silence of the two of them staring out of the balcony. Nick turns to look at him for a second, bewildered, before giggling to hide how flustered he is. That meant more to Nick that it should - he’s so happy that he found Mehmet again tonight. He voices his thought, and Mehmet laughs warmly too, surprisingly equally flustered as he pokes his tongue out in a dumb gesture, probably unconscious. Nick is mesmerised.

 

“Yeah, we should definitely hang out again. I’d love to spend time together again,” Mehmet says, voice soft and low - like an audio manifestation of melted chocolate. They’re facing each other now, the city and the lights below them long forgotten, and the tip of Mehmet’s fingers are brushing against Nick’s palm resting on the ledge. It is all a bit intense. Slowly and subtly, Mehmet is smoothing over Nick’s knuckles with his thumb, whilst still maintaining this entrancing eye contact. Nick thinks he might swoon.

 

“You know, I uh… I’m in New York, because my family… I,” Mehmet whispers, trying and failing to get the words out, but before he could, their moment was harshly interrupted. 

 

“Nick! Nick, Cassian’s ill, I’m gonna go home now,” Astrid says urgently, sauntering out to the balcony whilst pulling her shawl on. She belatedly realises that Mehmet is present too, reaching for an abrupt hug and apology, which he accepts bewilderedly, disorientated from the sudden turn of events. Nick blinks at him, now an arm’s distance away, wondering what was Mehmet meaning to tell him before he pulled away.

 

“You can stay if you want, or…” Astrid offers gracefully, when a dumbstruck Nick showed no signs of movement. She hates to cut Nick’s fun short, but she is also too worried to put off leaving any longer. Nick splutters uselessly, agreeing to go with her, after saying a hasty goodbye to Mehmet, who looks genuinely concerned for Astrid’s son. He reaches out for one last handshake, but Nick holds on for too long as he is being whisked away, turning it into an awkward clasp of hands. 

 

Nick thinks about the cringe worthy handshake all the way home in the cab, dwelling on the second right before Astrid has interrupted them. Nick is either delusional, or Mehmet was holding his hand. As weird as the thought was (they have known each other since their teenage years, after all), Nick can’t find it in himself to be disturbed by it. He wonders if Mehmet had meant to, and what does it all mean, given the recent revelation about Nick having spread far and wide. He doesn’t dare entertain the possibility - could Mehmet be…? - Nick has been disappointed far too much in his life to afford such a fantasy. He shakes the thought away from his head.

 

The question comes to a natural conclusion in the summer, when Mehmet cryptically exposes himself on Instagram attending New York Pride Parade. Nick and Astrid have been dragged to watch the floats by Rachel for a brief afternoon too, who is helping out for the NYU group. Nick sees the Starbucks float that just passed them on Mehmet’s Instagram story, and immediately passes his phone to Astrid. Astrid, well informed as always, tells Nick that his old schoolmate has been caught in a juicy affair with a prince in Turkey, hence fleeing his family. Nick chuckles in shock at the information - he never knew that Mehmet is into men too, and especially never would have expected him to get with a prince, how scandalous (to be fair, he is devastatingly handsome, Nick isn’t all that surprised); Nick hardly knows how to digest this information. He sends a reply to Mehmet’s post, mostly composed of emojis and “me too!!!” - with three exclamation marks, a bit too enthusiastic in hindsight -  and pockets his phone, nervously ignoring the realm of possibility that he might just have created.

 

Nick, Astrid, (and Rachel, unwillingly) escape the crowd soon enough, and into a bar a few blocks away from the parade, far enough to be not packed but still close enough that Astrid and Rachel could be a couple in peace, amongst other pride goers. Nick is hot and sweaty and tired - he desperately orders a pint from the bar, sighing out appreciatively once he gets his hand on the cold glass, taking a big gulp immediately. 

 

Someone shuffles beside Nick, and he recognises that voice soon enough. Mehmet. Nick turns his head to the right, and Mehmet is already staring at him, smiling as he collect his drink from the bartender, not once breaking eye contact with Nick. He is wearing a buttoned up sleeveless shirt (must as well call it buttoned down, with the expanse of chest that he is showing), and stray glitter is sparkling in his neatly trimmed beard. Nick is seeing Mehmet in a totally new light, and he feels the world beneath him goes. Thankfully his butt is already half perched on a bar stool. Nick grins and waves back, taking a quick glance at Astrid and Rachel behind him - they have already forgotten about him, cuddled up in a vintage sofa in the corner and being gross. They wouldn’t miss him. Nick settles into his stool as Mehmet pulls up another one next to him.

 

A few drinks later, Nick is comfortably chirpsing with his old friend, lightly teasing after having heard about the whole tantalising tale of Mehmet’s scandal. Mehmet laughs uninhibitedly, eyes crinkling and dimples prominent on his cheeks. When they recover from the laughing fit, Mehmet’s palm is on Nick’s knee, and Nick is blinking at him softly, tongue poking out playfully, like he used to do when they first met. Mehmet is  _ definitely _ flirting with him, Nick thinks to himself as he watches Mehmet’s thumb slowly drawing circles into the side of his thigh, his heart in his throat. Nick really likes him - maybe he always has.

 

Nick’s hand slowly find its way to Mehmet’s, still on Nick’s leg, and instead of nudging him away, Nick slowly intertwine their fingers together. Nick could be delusional, or he swears he heard Mehmet’s breath hitch. 

 

“Mehmet, I…” Nick glances up, but before he could finish his sentence, Mehmet takes no time to venture into the space between them to capture Nick’s lips in an urgent kiss. Nick gasps, and as he crumbles, together with their decade long friendship, Mehmet catches him, his hands cupping Nick’s face delicately, and they kept kissing and kissing and kissing. Mehmet’s beard is slightly ticklish, but Nick can’t find it in himself to care. This is like his sixth form fantasies coming to life -  his funny hot Turkish housemate, making out with him in public, like there is no tomorrow. Maybe Nick has always been a little bit in love with Mehmet after all.

 

So Nicholas Young finally gets his happily ever after, with a Turkish prince-wannabe, his knight in shining armour; although it took him a lot of tears and heartbreak, he eventually got there. Home might be back in Singapore, thousands of miles away; but Nick had never felt more safe, than on the night when Mehmet whisked him away from danger outside that dreadful McDonalds in Oxford, his arms around him and hand brushing soothingly by his sides.  
  
  



End file.
